I Am Not a Poet…
Then who am I?
What’s my identity?
I talk about raindrops
I can smell the red earth…
I talk about loneliness
I talk about the distant sky
I try to calm my soul
With some benevolent words...
The sit alone in a park
I constantly keep gazing
The hazy moon in the dark
I love everything that’s bright.
My heart half- clogged, half smoky
The galaxy where I dwell
Is so full of ecstasy…
I extract happiness from prose
Weaving a tale make me proud
The walls praise me
The darkness seems so very clear
Poetry is life, it’s reserved…
I am not a poet…
Then who am I?
What’s my identity?
I talk about raindrops
I can smell the red earth…
I talk about loneliness
I talk about the distant sky
I try to calm my soul
With some benevolent words...
The sit alone in a park
I constantly keep gazing
The hazy moon in the dark
I love everything that’s bright.
My heart half- clogged, half smoky
The galaxy where I dwell
Is so full of ecstasy…
I extract happiness from prose
Weaving a tale make me proud
The walls praise me
The darkness seems so very clear
Poetry is life, it’s reserved…
I am not a poet…
Then who am I?
Image: www.artquotes.net
I really liked the atmosphere this poem created. I thought there were a few technical difficulties, such as this line, "The sit alone in a park"...but you're definitely a poet. :)
ReplyDeleteWell written.
Thanks Sakhi :)
ReplyDeletethe way all ur writingz go ur are noone else but a poet,
ReplyDeleteand a pretty self introspective poet must say :)
Thanks Megharana :)
ReplyDeleteA question ...which not a lot of us have an answer...who am I....
ReplyDeleteHI Pallav,
ReplyDeletevery well written and expressed , and you are surely a poet..in the making :)
well done.
take care
ks:)
wow...!!!
ReplyDeleteYou are many things in one and so to narrow yourself in perspective as being one is certainly limiting to the person that is many certainties in one!
ReplyDeleteHope I made some sense!
YOu are You...
ReplyDeleteYou write and extract happiness from what you feel and write...
And the world should know your dreams and ecstacy and your strife...
YOU are not a poet.
You are.
A REVIVAL.
A NEW LIFE...
God bless.
The words he carved is suit for all,natural one.
ReplyDeletecreative ambiance delicately weaved.
ReplyDelete@megharana…It was an introspective poem and you interpreted well. Thanks for reading my poem :)
ReplyDelete@Shahid…True! Discovering your inner self is quite a daunting task. But, remember there’s always a silver lining.
@Vivek…Thanks for the compliment. I wish :)
@Suryatapa…Your wow made me smile :-)
@Rakesh…Absolutely sensible. You are undoubtedly one of the prolific writers who know the art of blending the absurdity and reality well.
@Gazal…Your lines are so very inspiring. Gave me goosebumps.
@Navsingh… Natural lines, natural words come out from a natural feeling. Thanks for reading and appreciating my poem.
@Arpana…Thanks for the delicate praise:)
If you are not a poet, then you surely are a lonely person, as those symptoms are a sure sign of loneliness.
ReplyDelete:)
Kidding, great work man.
Thanks acai berry :P
ReplyDeletesometimes I feel loneliness makes us poet... its only when our heart breaks that we start noticing things around us... and try to explain ourselves through them ...
ReplyDeleteyou definately are a poet... else how could you describe it so beautifully :)
maybe you are a dream weaver.. :) you do write beautifully Pallav . My poems seem to fade away in front of these. loved this one
ReplyDelete@Rajlakshmi…Loneliness makes you think, you become restless and then you try to write. Suddenly you find a poet in front smiling at you.
ReplyDelete@Tikuli…Your calm words have inspired me. There’s so much modesty.
Who am I is a question, which definitely everyone asks onself! but bringing it out like this is interesting!
ReplyDeletenice one Pallav!
Thanks restless heart :)
ReplyDeleteso then... who are you? :-)
ReplyDeletevery well expressed...